Eowyn gets a Magic Wand
by Water Faerie
Summary: When Eowyn the scary girl from Rohan steals a magic wand from her faerie godfather, Middle Earth flies into a state of panic.......
1. Key Ingredients I

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings. YES I DO!!!! No, I don't. YES, I DO!!!! No, I really don't..... 

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A blonde-headed girl storms around the sitting room in the enormous villa, throwing random priceless antiques into the floor, and walls, and into other priceless antiques. 

From first glance one would think that this was some spoiled fickle princess who was just denied the object of her latest interest, and one's first glance would be basically correct. The interest, in this case, happened to be directed towards the soon-to-be king of the neighbouring country. (AN: Damn these royals and their ambitious-yet-achieveable interests! DAMN THEM!!!) 

"What a *goes off into a long list of unprintable Quenyan* man that Aragorn is!" she screams, as yet another 13,000-year-old elven artifact crashed to its noisy end. 

Suddenly, the room was filled with a blinding white light and 1st-age choral music, as a very old hobbit appeared right in front of her face. 

"Yo, Éowyn! What is UP my SISTAH?" the old hobbit says. 

"_Aaahhh.......aahh......_" sing the choir-hobbits. 

"Bilbo, 133-year-old hobbits should not try to be ghetto kids." 

"Bilbo? I'm your radical cool hip modern Faerie Godfather!" 

"_Aaahhhhhh-ah-ahhhhhhhhhhhh......._" agree the choir-hobbits. 

"Radical?....." 

"And I am here to grant you one far-out wish!" 

"_Aaaaahh......aaaaaaAAAAAHHHHHHHHH....._" 

"Far out?" Éowyn is shocked by this sudden, improper slang-using. As she tries to ponder what illegal substance the hobbit has taken before arriving, the music slowly permeates her mind, blocking all thought. 

"_Aaaaaaaa-_" 

"Stop that screeching!!" 

"What's wrong with our singing?" A choir-hobbit interjects, looking hurt. 

"It's not you... it's the horse!" 

"Horse? What hor- SAM, DID YOU BRING BILL AGAIN????" 

"He came of his own free will!" a small (okay, *small* is an understatement) fat (yes, fat is an understatement as well) choir-hobbit retorts. 

"Neigh," neighs Bill, and trots away. 

"BILL!!!" Cries the small fat hobbit named Samwise, and runs off after him. 

"SAM!!" Cries a hobbit named Frodo, as his plate-sized eyes fill with water and fake concern, and runs off after them. 

"umm.... Frodo!" Cries Pippin, and dances away in the same manner. 

"My fifteen minutes of fame!" Cries Merry, and slinks off in the opposite direction. 

"ANYways, Eowyn," Bilbo says, trying to bring everyone back on topic, "So what do you think?" 

"What were we talking about?" Asks Éowyn, now genuinely confused. This was nuts. This kind of insanity had not been seen in Rohan since the time her great-great-uncle suddenly decided that he was going to become a cucumber farmer. Poor old Éocas. 

"As I have previously mentionned, I am your new faerie godfather." 

"Why can't you be my uber-faerie godfather?" 

"FINE! I'm your new UBER-faerie godfather." 

"and whyyy would I want an uber-faerie godfather in the first pl- oh! Ooh! I know! Don't tell me..... You're going to grant me a WISH! Right? Am I right?" 

"Yes, Éowyn," Sighed Bilbo the Uber-Faerie Godfather. This was nuts. This kind of stupidity had not been seen in Hobbiton since the time old Jimmy got his derrière stuck while trying to jump in the well. Poor old Jimmy. 

But he had no time to ponder this, as Éowyn suddenly made a grab for him and ended up falling on the floor. Bilbo the Uber-Faerie Godfather, suspended on a string, swings to one side and crashes into the chandelier. The Hogwarts( Magic Wand in his pocket falls to the marble floor. 

"YES!" Shouts Éowyn as she picks it up triumphantly. 

"What?" Groans Bilbo the Uber-Faerie Godfather. 

"I wished for a magic wand, and my wish came truue!" She cackles and runs away. 

"Oh.... no...." says Bilbo, dazed, as he falls with a thump to the ground. 

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Sooooooo....... what do you think? Sock me with your flames, your comments, your Pulitzer prizes..... 


	2. Key Ingredients II

A/N: I don't own any of the characters in this. Although I personally have very good relationships with each and every one of them. Éowyn, Arwen, and I, we were childhood gal pals. And you should have seen Frodo when he was young! Man! Talk about overweigh-- ah! Well! Look at the time! Let's move on, shall we? 

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Chapter 2: More Key Ingredients 

A tall, dark, handsome man walks around his large palace in Gondor, his arm around his latest and most permanent accessory, his wife. Not just Any Old Wife. This was an OLD WIFE, a 3751-year old designer elf-wife straight out of Rivendell. And anything designer needs to be pampered and treated with utmost care. This was no exception. 

"I wuv you so much, my widdle Arwen-Snoogums," he cooed. 

"I love you too, my big squishy Aragorn-Oliphaunt," she replied in a thick, deep, syruppy voice, as they clung to each other as if there was no tomorrow while walking down a flight of stairs, AND balancing a book on each of their heads with a glass of grape juice on top. 

"Snoogie-pie, we are SO going to win that three-legged race on Tuesday." 

"I know, sweetie. That's why we're having that pre-race winning party today." 

"Is everything ready-weddie?" 

"We had it ready as soon as we heard about the competition, silly," she giggled, as she hugged him tighter. The juice sloshed around in the cup, but miraculously stayed in place atop her perfect hairdo. 

"Of course." He smiled down at his wife. Where would he be without her here, constantly reminding him of every single event that ever occured within his country? 

"In fact," Arwen cooed, "Legolas and Gimli-wimli should have done setting up by now. Why don't we go and give them hell- I mean, go and see how they're doing?" She smiled sweetly. Slosh, agreed the juice. 

"of course, Snoogles." Here was the perfect specimen of Whipped Husband. Version 3.0. 

"I knew you'd agree." 

By now they had crossed the courtyard and were nearing a massive stone archway. As they innocently stepped onto the threshold together, with the juice and the books, a huge glass plate came flying out to meet them..... 

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yes yes, short I knows my preciousssssss........... but I had to end it somewhere and this seemed like a good place. Review reviews! 


	3. McDwimordene's: we love to see you hungr...

A/N: Hee hee...... I just realized (okay, people screaming at me _helped_ me realize) that I have slowly gone from present tense writing to past. So the story has had a little oil change, the glitches are being smoothed out, and thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart. 

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CRASH. 

"PIPPIN! THAT WAS THE BEST PLATE WE HAD!!!" The cry (bark? shout? scream? what do these mysterious Dwarves do to unleash their fury?)of the dwarf echoes off the ridiculously high walls and ceiling. 

"See, Merry? I TOLD you it wasn't a frisbee!" calls Frodo, padding into view. 

"An integral part of the kitchen..... lost...." says Sam in a forlorn, far-away voice. He slowly crawls over to the remains of the plate and started picking up the bits and praying over them. Pippin stood by him, whips out a violin and proceeds to play a funeral march. Everyone's eyes start watering. 

"Frodo," sobs Aragorn, hugging the hobbit, "let me show you a picture of my poor deceased mother!" 

"not before I show you a picture of my poor drownèd mother!!" Wails Frodo, waving an old black and white photo. 

The music comes to an abrupt halt. Everyone looks at Pippin. 

"What?" says Pippin, putting the violin back in his invisible pocket. "It's time for Elevenses. I'm hungry!" 

There is chaos as all the hobbits rush to the nearest McDwimordene's, leaving behind a surprised but angry Arwen and her husband cowering from her wrath. 

"LEGGOLAHS!!" She screams. *author's note: that was pronounced LAY-Go-Las, as in Las Vegas.* The windows shook. The juice wobbled. 

"yes?" The elf says smoothly, as he glides into the room, with trays of hors d'oeuvres balanced on his head and arms and fingertips and somehow, ears. 

"Do NOT ever send hobbits rampaging through my castle AGAIN!" The Welch's Grape Juice tips to the ground with a clunk, staining her dress an ugly purple that matches her face. 

Legolas looks shocked. 

"What about buffalo?" he timidly inquires as she towered over him [somehow, Arwen manages this even though Legolas is twice her height]. 

"Noooooo buffalo!" Screams Arwen. 

"Wildebeest?" 

"Noooooo wildebeest!!" 

Legolas looks absolutely crestfallen. 

"Fangirls?" 

"WE LOVE YOU LEGOLAS!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" squeals a legion of fangirls on cue outside the castle. 

"Legolas, _what_ have I told you about fangirls?" 

"they're unhealthy to my ego in large doses." Legolas the elf lowers his head in shame. 

"EXACTLY! Now get them out of here before someone gets hurt." 

"Oh, it's ok if I lose a few, there's plenty to spare." 

"I meant YOU." 

Pause. The prince of Mirkwood ponders this thought. 

"Oh. Um... o-kay, I'm going to... check on the... " He trots away. Arwen grabs a few hors d'oeuvres off the plates as he leaves. 

* * * * * 

After many hours of this insanity and not getting anything done, the guests have arrived at the party and are helping themselves to juice, lembas trays and hors d'oeuvres off Legolas. Gimli, having been invisible all this time, is trying desperately to get people to pay attention to him by singing, dancing, breathing fire..... the like. 

"Bilbo! Speech! Speech!" shouts Frodo. Everyone immediately smothers him to try to get him to shut up before.... 

"well, sure! If you insist!" 

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Okay..... we're going to leave them be, shall we? Tune in later.... and for those of you wondering where the heck Éowyn fits into all of this, the meat of the pot is coming. Soon. Now's your chance to review! Ha ha ha ha!!! 


	4. An unexpected guest

A/N: See before. Since you've already read this far, there's no point in typing it over again and again.... My poor fingers! I will get carpal tunnel syndrome because of this!  
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"Speech?" says Bilbo, climbing up onto a huge wooden crate that just so happened to be beside him (In case you've never been to one before, big wooden crates are always put beside hobbit dinner guests at pre-three-legged-race-winning parties, in case they ever feel the need to make speeches, or to rise up to the height of everyone else).   
p  
"Well! It's been a while since I was last asked to make a speech. I remember the first time I was asked to make a speech. It was at the 54th birthday party of Mogo Proudfoot. The speech was long.... and tedious.... and I draaaaaagged the syyyylllllllables out like thiiiiiiissssss......... and paused...........................  
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"to make impressions..................  
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"Twas the finest speech I have ever made! But poor Mogo. He never had a birthday party again."  
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"Actually, he had one every year after that," whispers Merry to Gandalf, falling asleep beside him, "but Bilbo was just never invited."  
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"But I had lots of other opportunities to practice my speeches!" Roars Bilbo after a particularily long pause, stirring everyone in their sleep. "There was the speech at Annabell Underhill's wedding, and the one at Rose Cotton's 10th, and the i mwa mwa mwa mwa mwa /I...."   
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During the entire speech, the box under him had been moving forward, and Bilbo's head was becoming less visible, until he finally succeeded in becoming a living replica of Charlie Brown's teacher, fading away into oblivion. He was never seen again. No one cared.   
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Meanwhile, a hooded creature had been sitting in the corner, sporting a bubble pipe and a magic marker beard, watching everything carefully with icy eyes.... observing every move of every person.... feeling every breath and every word exchanged..... occasionally spouting bubbles out the end of the pipe.....  
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"hi, dark and handsome." A sleazy voice catches the attention of the hooded figure. Some light falls on the face of the speaker, revealing a very drunk Arwen. Hair falling over her face, she touches the shoulder of the bearded person sluttishly. "Bet you've never been with an elf before."  
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The hooded figure lets out a piercing scream and starts beating Arwen away with a nearby chair. Arwen, maddened, attacks the figure. The hood falls off, revealing something no one had dreamed of..... 


End file.
